


i'm longing to linger till dawn, dear

by ivorydice



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, First Kiss, Fluff, Good Ardyn Izunia, Idiots in Love, M/M, Post-Game(s), Slice of Life, Temporary Character Death, Time Shenanigans, like blink and it's over character death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-30
Updated: 2020-04-30
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:46:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,190
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23932516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ivorydice/pseuds/ivorydice
Summary: Ardyn probably hadn’t celebrated his own birthday in years—hell, maybe thousands of them—and they needed the reprieve. They needed to sit back and take a breath, take things a little slower even if it would only be for a moment or for a day.He wanted to celebrate Ardyn’s birthday.
Relationships: Ardyn Izunia/Noctis Lucis Caelum
Comments: 18
Kudos: 125





	i'm longing to linger till dawn, dear

**Author's Note:**

> Just a silly little thing I wrote for Ardyn's birthday <333 BECAUSE I LOVE HIM AND HE DESERVES TO BE LOVED.

  
  
“When's your birthday?”  
  
Admittedly, he’d initially asked Ardyn as a half-assed way of making conversation, just yet another way to help pass the time. But, as soon as the question left his lips, he found himself feeling genuinely curious. Despite how many years had gone by, there still seemed to be so much he didn’t know, and not knowing something about _Ardyn_ of all people felt like a crime at this point given how much time they had spent together.  
  
“My what?” Ardyn had responded, staring at him with that bewildered look he got whenever he thought Noctis was being particularly stupid.  
  
“Your birthday,” Noctis had repeated. “When is it? You do have a birthday, right?”  
  
Ardyn had slanted his eyes at him, suspicious and confused, but he’d answered anyway. “The thirtieth of April, not that I ever pay any attention to it. Whatever brought on such a question?”  
  
Noctis had shrugged and shook his head, perhaps a little too quickly, a little too dismissively as he said, “Was just asking. Sheesh.”  
  
But then the thought wouldn’t leave his mind.  
  
It was disappointing, however, the fact that they’d long passed April at that point, nearing closer to the end of May even. Time passed by quickly whenever they were attempting to fashion yet another plan on how to take down Niflheim and find a way to actually purge the starscourge from the world in a way that remained, you know, _permanent_ and didn’t just send them back in time to do it all over yet again. This time with the added bonuses of trying to take back the Crystal and building an army. At this point it felt more and more like a game, like playing around with the universe, seeing how differently they could manipulate things, how creatively they could do it this time, how quickly they could do it the next time and so on.  
  
It was sickening, in a way, when he truly thought about it, in the dead of night when his own mind couldn’t be escaped. But then this life of theirs _was_ sickening. It’d drive him crazy if he let it.  
  
So he had to focus on the little things sometimes. Like Ardyn’s birthday. Once he’d asked the question, the thought wouldn’t leave him alone. Ardyn probably hadn’t celebrated his own birthday in years—hell, maybe thousands of them—and they needed the reprieve. They needed to sit back and take a breath, take things a little slower even if it would only be for a moment or for a day.  
  
He wanted to celebrate Ardyn’s birthday.  
  
Of course, it had nothing to do with the way things had changed recently. It had nothing to do with the way Noctis always found himself eyeing the curve of Ardyn’s throat and the length of his jaw, the way the timber of Ardyn’s voice would rumble through him like rich wine, the way he saw Ardyn’s own gaze linger on him at times.  
  
It had nothing to do with _emotions_ , or, damn it, even _caring_ about the guy. They were on good terms, now, that was all it was.  
  
He arranged it all anyway. Told the guys he’d need to head out on a top secret mission after their hunt out in Duscae. Booked a table for the two of them at Galdin Quay. Felt like a complete and utter idiot, like some teenager all over again, nervous and excited like it was a _date_ , which, god, it _wasn’t_.  
  
None of it mattered anyway. Because then the reset happened the day before the surprise dinner.  
  
A stupid accident, a freak accident. An _embarrassing_ accident. He was experienced now, older, so much older than anyone ever realised despite his twenty-year-old face. All that time and experience under his belt, and yet he still zigged when he should have zagged, and, before he knew it, his chest was skewered through with a magitek trooper’s lance, the blade piercing directly through his heart, with his breath ripping painfully out of his lungs, with the blood roaring in his ears.  
  
He had enough time to hear Prompto’s horrified screaming, Ignis shouting for him, he saw Gladio rushing to his aid even though they all knew it was a fatal blow, it was over, _again_ , and all Noctis could do was stare at the trooper’s lifeless face and think _are you kidding me_ —  
  
And then the reset happened.  
  
Maybe dinner had been a stupid idea after all, and this was the universe’s way of telling him so.  
  
It only took one of them to die—usually Noctis, given Ardyn’s unfair state of near immortality, the _nerve_ of him—then everything would snap back to an earlier time, as easily and suddenly as blinking. Random times, too. They could reset to days earlier, to weeks earlier, hell even years.  
  
This time, Noctis snapped back to his Citadel bedroom. One moment a magitek trooper’s shish kebab and listening to his friends screaming, the next moment standing by his old bed in near silence, the sound of Insomnia’s heavy afternoon traffic drifting in through an open window.  
  
He blinked, letting out a heavy breath. He quickly took stock of the situation. His chest felt strange, his heart still stuttering in his chest, a phantom pole jabbing through him—though that was just the memory lingering and would fade soon enough. He felt dirty and sweaty, his hair felt like it needed a wash. He had his training gear on and a fresh bruise blooming on his forearm.  
  
Right. So he’d just been with Gladio. Nothing too terrible or important happening, it seemed. He hated the times when he'd be thrown back only to land in the middle of a crisis.  
  
He saw his phone resting on the bedside table. He quickly snatched it up and checked the date.  
  
April thirtieth. A year before the original peace treaty between Lucis and Niflheim.  
  
“Are you _kidding_ me,” Noctis sighed.  
  
The reservation with Galdin Quay was gone, obviously. He could make a new one, but at this point in time? With plenty of travellers still coming and going through Galdin, and with paparazzi ready to snap his face and spread it all over every gossip website available?  
  
And that was without mentioning that he was back _home_. He’d never be able to get out of the city and show up at a public resort without raising suspicions with, well, everyone.  
  
Damn it, he’d just wanted to give Ardyn a surprise birthday dinner. Now it was nearly too late.  
  
Improvisation, then.  
  
  
~&~  
  
  
He was back in his apartment when his cell phone rang, a familiar number lighting up the screen. Seeing it settled something restless within him, it eased and uncoiled something tight in his chest he refused to acknowledge yet could never seem to avoid feeling.  
  
Whenever they reset, a part of him always wondered if Ardyn would even remember everything they’d been through, or if he would survive the journey at all. It was funny how things changed. Once, long ago, Ardyn’s demise had been the thing Noctis wanted the most. He would have died for it. These days, though….  
  
He let out a relieved breath, scanned the room again though he knew Ignis wasn’t here, and he answered the call. “Yeah?”  
  
“ _Hello there! Am I speaking to His Highness, Prince Noct—_ ”  
  
“Stow the acting, Ardyn,” Noctis cut him off. “Yeah, it’s me.”  
  
“ _I see,_ ” Ardyn replied, a little relieved maybe. Or perhaps that was just Noctis's imagination. “ _So. What happened?_ ”  
  
“What do you mean?” Noctis deflected. So many years spent together, and he still hated that accusatory tone. Hated it because, yeah, most of the time Ardyn had every right to be using it. He certainly did this time. “What happened with _you_? What’d you do?”  
  
“I _didn’t do anything, Your Majesty,_ ” Ardyn’s smug smirk was audible even through the phone, god damn it. “ _If you recall, I was set on having a quaint little time browsing the markets in Lestallum. You, however, are the one who went out to battle._ ”  
  
He hated this guy. Noctis glared at the phone, then glared at the wall as he bit out, “A trooper killed me.”  
  
Silence. Not just any silence, though. _Judgemental_ silence.  
  
“I didn’t mean for it to happen,” Noctis defended. “It just...happened.”  
  
“ _A trooper._ ”  
  
“Yeah.”  
  
“ _A magitek trooper?_ ”  
  
“Yeah. With a polearm. Went right through my chest, then, bam, I’m here in Insomnia again—” Wait, was that a laugh? Was Ardyn _laughing_ at him? “It’s not funny! We’ve been sent back, _yet again_ —”  
  
“ _A trooper! Really, Noctis?_ ” Ardyn chuckled down the phone. “ _You have gone up against entire armies and_ gods _, and you let one mere infantryman get the best of you?_ ”  
  
Alright, cancel the plans, cancel the birthday, cancel god damn everything. How was it, even after going through this multiple times, spending literal _years_ with this man, Noctis could still feel so humiliated? “Listen, scourge sack—”  
  
“ _Oh, my feelings!_ ” He was still laughing, damn him. “ _You have wounded me so!_ ”  
  
Noctis sighed, rolled his eyes to the ceiling. “Can you get here to Insomnia? Tonight?” No point in beating around the bush if Ardyn was just going to take any and every opportunity to insult him, the asshole.  
  
“ _Tonight? Why?_ ”  
  
“I had plans.” Noctis eyed his kitchen, wondering how well stocked it was. Probably not very. “And I’m not letting a reset ruin them.”  
  
“ _And those plans include me?_ ”  
  
“Don’t they always?”  
  
Ardyn hummed on the other side of the phone, curious and amused, a low sound that sent a shiver down Noctis’s spine. “ _I suppose I can swing by. What time should I arrive?_ ”  
  
They were getting so careless, Noctis thought. He guessed getting sent back again and again would do that. Once upon a time, he would have been riddled with anxiety and paranoia, trying to find ways to keep their secrets secret from the likes of his father and his friends. He and Ardyn used to come up with such elaborate schemes to meet with each other again, avoiding both Niflheim and Insomnia’s suspicions like they were common criminals.  
  
Now, however— “How does eight-thirty sound?”  
  
“ _That sounds just fine. Why, I’m counting down the hours already!_ ”  
  
“Okay,” Noctis sighed and quickly hung up on him, tossing his phone down on the couch.  
  
Why did he do this to himself?  
  
  
~&~  
  
  
Ignis was suspicious at the best of times. Stopping by some hours later only to see Noctis stocking his fridge and cupboards with freshly bought food when it wasn’t yet time to restock—and when Noctis usually liked to leave such a task to the last minute—was enough to have his inner bloodhound sniffing.  
  
“Are you unwell?” Ignis asked, after his initial surprise passed.  
  
Noctis stared at him, confused. “No?”  
  
“Are you having guests over? Prompto, perhaps?”  
  
“What? No!”  
  
Ignis raised an eyebrow at him, then eyed the kitchen as if it would open up and reveal every little secret should he choose to ask. Noctis found himself suddenly paranoid that it _would_ , that Ignis would look at the cutlery prepared on the counter, that he would see the clean dishes stacked in a tidy pile and ready for use, that he would sense the bottle of wine in the fridge, and he would deduce _ah, a surprise birthday meal for the Chancellor of Niflheim, of_ course.  
  
Noctis swallowed and finished stuffing the cans into the cupboard. “Can’t a guy just tidy up a bit and stock up on food?”  
  
“I suppose,” Ignis said, eyeing him suspiciously. “Do you want me to cook something for you?”  
  
Normally, he’d leap at any chance for Ignis’s cooking, but he couldn’t have Ignis wait around to discover Ardyn, and this was supposed to be Noctis’s whole gig anyway. “Nah, I got it covered.”  
  
“Really. You’re going to cook.”  
  
“Yes,” Noctis glared at him. “Don’t say it like that. I can cook!”  
  
“I never said you couldn’t,” Ignis drawled back, but Noctis wasn’t falling for that, he knew Ignis well enough to hear the hidden meaning _there_.  
  
For a moment, he paused, simply took it all in. Sometimes he didn’t let himself take any of it in, sometimes he couldn’t. But he did so now; Ignis, painfully young and unscarred both physically and spiritually, standing in Noctis’s kitchen with his arms crossed over his chest, eyes suspicious and yet fond. Ignis had been through so much with him and for him, he’d proven his loyalty and friendship ten times over. He deserved more than lies and dismissals.  
  
Not to mention he was like a dog with a bone when he was suspicious.  
  
“I just need some space for today,” Noctis offered. “That okay?”  
  
“Of course,” Ignis said, gently, his gaze softening and turning serious, his arms lowering to his sides, ready to support in any way he could. “Is there anything wrong?”  
  
“Nah,” Noctis shook his head. “It’s just...it’s been a _day_.” That sure was an understatement. He resisted the urge to rub at his chest, at the phantom pain still twinging there. God, he _hated_ resetting, it always left him restless and disoriented. “I’ve just got some things to do,” he said, “and I need some space to do it. I promise, there’s nothing wrong.”  
  
“If you’re sure.”  
  
“I’m sure.” Noctis gave him a grin. “Hey, I saw there’s some historical Altissian art exhibit tomorrow at the national museum. Wanna go?”  
  
Ignis eyed him, still suspicious and concerned, but he clearly saw the peace offering for what it was. “Very well,” he nodded. He glanced around the kitchen again, probably taking in more clues he could use to piece together later, and he said, “Do call me if you need anything.”  
  
“Always do,” Noctis nodded.  
  
  
~&~  
  
  
Noctis could cook. He _could_. Yeah, he wasn’t on the same level as gourmet, five star restaurant, super master chef Ignis freaking Scientia, but he could work his own way around the kitchen.  
  
Or so he had thought, when this had merely been a plan, an idea in the making, rather than something he actually had to do here and now. Even while faced with all the things he’d bought at the local store, he promptly forgot every dish he’d ever learned how to make, he forgot how to properly time and schedule things, and panic quickly wormed its way through his brain.  
  
What did Ardyn even like to eat anyway? It had never really come up, even with all the years that had gone by, all the different scenarios they’d played through. Ardyn ate, he knew that much. He’d seen him eat meat and vegetables and pastries.  
  
That was why Galdin had been perfect. A nice place, good food, and he could have chosen what he’d wanted to eat and drink. He wouldn’t have had to put up with Noctis’s shoddy, pathetic attempts at a meal.  
  
What the hell, maybe it didn’t even matter. It was just a simple little dinner, after all.  
  
Ardyn arrived on time. Eight-thirty on the dot. Noctis felt strangely light-headed and nervous as he pulled open his balcony door, heartbeat pounding in his ears as he took in the sight of Ardyn casually half-sitting, half-lying along the balcony wall, lounging there like a lazy coeurl and without a care in the world.  
  
Ardyn made a twirling motion with his hand and bowed his head. “Your Majesty.”  
  
Noctis fought the urge to roll his eyes. “Get down from there. Before someone sees you.”  
  
“Of course,” Ardyn chuckled. “We wouldn’t want a scandalous headline happening so soon.” He slipped off the wall, landing on his feet, as graceful and elegant as a cat. He had that cat-like look on his face too, the hooded eyes and the amused smirk, the look he seemed to reserve solely for Noctis. It faded into bewilderment as they stepped into the apartment.  
  
Noctis clenched his hands, then decided that was too tense and aggressive. He crossed his arms over his chest, but that was too awkward. “Uh…” Damn it, this was so _stupid_.  
  
Ardyn’s eyes took in the table pulled up to the windows so they could look out at the cityscape beyond. He took in the lit candles and the waiting cutlery, and the soft jazz playing from the sound system his phone was hooked up to nearby. His eyes finally landed back on Noctis, curious and confused and maybe a little amused. “Been busy, have we?”  
  
“Yeah,” Noctis said.  
  
Ardyn stared at him. His eyes moved downwards, took in Noctis’s dress shirt and pants, moving back up just as slowly until their eyes met again. “I see you are more well put together than usual, too,” his voice seemed to take on a softer, deeper tone. “Whatever is the occasion?”  
  
Noctis closed the balcony door perhaps a little too firmly. “Dinner,” he said, avoiding looking at Ardyn directly. “Hope you’re hungry.”  
  
“I could eat.” Ardyn seemed to eye his every move, more attuned and observant than ever, the way he got when he was taken by surprise and wanted to know more about a situation.  
  
Noctis fought back a shiver under that weightful gaze and motioned towards the table. “Take a seat. Dinner should be just about ready.”  
  
Ardyn’s eyebrows shot upwards. “You cooked?”  
  
“Yes. I _can_ cook. Why does no one believe that?”  
  
Ardyn chuckled. He was suddenly all good manners as he removed his coat and took a seat, always able to act so politely at dinners and parties, perfectly poised and confident. He was insufferable. “I can recall a certain time you bur—”  
  
“If you bring up that burned can of beans once more, I swear...” Noctis cut him off. “Besides, they were _beans_. Evil incarnate. They deserved to burn.”  
  
Ardyn’s delighted chuckles followed him to the kitchen, and Noctis took a moment to catch his breath and will his heart to stop pounding the way it was. God, it was just _dinner_. It didn’t even have to mean anything. Ardyn didn’t know it meant anything. It _didn’t_ mean anything.  
  
Except, yeah, he kind of wanted it to mean something. April thirtieth. That _meant_ something.  
  
The food wasn’t anything fancy. He’d had his small panic attack and then decided to cook the first thing that came to his mind; teriyaki chicken stir fry. Maybe it was basic and unimpressive when compared to Ignis's cooking, and maybe it meant having a ton of vegetables on his plate, but at least it looked good and he knew it’d taste decent enough. The meat would, at least.  
  
“Look at you, so domestic!” Ardyn watched in amusement as Noctis served their dinner and poured their wine. He ran an appreciative eye over the food and said, “This looks good.”  
  
Noctis huffed, self-conscious as he took his own seat. “Thanks.”  
  
“I thought you loathed vegetables.”  
  
“I do.”  
  
Ardyn raised his eyebrows. “Bearing them for me, then? My, my. Something is definitely afoot here.”  
  
Noctis rolled his eyes and shook his head, but he found he was smiling as they dug into their food. It was nice to finally relax like this, to let time move by slowly and simply bask in the moment. They’d needed it for a while now, and resetting and getting sent back through time always felt so chaotic and jarring, taking a night to just sit and steady themselves, to get their bearings back, was more than necessary at this point. It was nice to be able to do so.  
  
They fell into routine, into their usual post-reset conversation, recapping on what had happened previously and what they had landed themselves into now. Noctis had been lucky, waking up in his Citadel bedroom the way he had. Apparently Ardyn had snapped back to a briefing with the highest members of Niflheim’s government, the Emperor included, his automatic outburst of “Damn it!” bringing that particular meeting to a grinding halt.  
  
“Oh, you should have seen their faces,” Ardyn chuckled. “Complete and utter outrage. I doubt Aldercapt has ever been interrupted in his life.”  
  
Noctis snickered his way through that particular story, praying he wouldn’t choke on his food and humiliate himself. This was better than Galdin Quay, he finally decided. The food wasn’t bad at all, the wine warmed his veins, and they were out of the way of prying, curious, suspicious eyes. A shame they’d been sent back, but they’d had rougher tumbles through time, that was for sure.  
  
At least Ardyn seemed to be enjoying himself.  
  
“I hope you’re not mad at me,” Noctis said, once they’d finished recapping everything.  
  
Ardyn blinked. “Why would I be?”  
  
“For triggering another reset.”  
  
“Ah,” Ardyn eyed him curiously, motioning towards their plates. “Is that what this is about, then? An apology dinner for the abrupt change in plans?”  
  
“No.” Noctis looked at Ardyn, then looked down at their plates, and then back up at Ardyn again. He could feel his cheeks growing warmer the longer Ardyn stared at him, but he forced the words out anyway. “This is a birthday dinner.”  
  
Ardyn stopped eating, stopped blinking. He seemed to stop moving entirely. “I beg your pardon?”  
  
Yeah, his cheeks were definitely heating up now. Noctis focused on his plate instead. “It’s a birthday dinner. Today—well, _now_ today...it’s April thirtieth.”  
  
“It is?”  
  
“Yeah.” Noctis looked at anything and everything except Ardyn, suddenly feeling mortified and ridiculous. He had faced down hordes of daemons, he had led soldiers into battle, he had died multiple times and would die again no doubt, and yet nothing left him nervous like this ridiculous little meal did right now.  
  
“I was gonna invite you to Galdin Quay,” he blurted out, because, apparently, he was determined to dig his own grave today. “I had reservations for tomorrow. Well, you know. _Before’s_ tomorrow. Before we reset. But then we jumped to today, and it’s actually your birthday today, so I figured I’d still go ahead with dinner—”  
  
Good god, he was actually babbling. Noctis promptly shut his mouth, his teeth clacking together, and he prayed to every god that might actually like him that his entire face wasn’t red the way he was sure it was.  
  
“I see,” Ardyn finally said, blinking at him. He glanced over their meal again, at the candles on the table, the glasses of wine. “And...why would you do this?”  
  
Noctis snorted, amused despite his own embarrassment. “Didn’t you hear me? It’s your _birthday_. When was the last time you celebrated your birthday?”  
  
Ardyn smiled. A weary, sad little smile. “A long time ago,” he said softly.  
  
A long time ago. Yeah. Before wars and bloodshed and hordes of daemons, before betrayal and darkness and torture and torment, before time loops and angry, hateful battles.  
  
But, here and now, this was _after_ all of those things. This was after Ardyn had sacrificed and shed the ways divinely expected of him, after he’d clawed his way back from insanity, after refusing to drown and lose himself in an ocean of memories that weren’t his own, after he’d fought back against his darkness and his anger and had regained composure and control. Those dark, hateful days were gone now, all for Noctis and for their cause.  
  
Ardyn deserved to have his birthday celebrated again, in Noctis’s opinion. It was about damn time.  
  
“So, let’s celebrate it now,” Noctis said. “I bought cake and everything.” He picked up his glass and held it up, wiggling it pointedly when Ardyn merely continued to stare at him.  
  
Then Ardyn smiled again, a warm, somewhat fond expression, rolling his eyes as he raised his own glass to clink it with Noctis’s. “Well, Your Majesty. I dare say you never cease to surprise me.”  
  
Noctis grinned. “Keeps you on your toes.”  
  
Ardyn laughed at that, his eyes meeting Noctis’s. “That it does.”  
  
He looked good like that, Noctis thought. Younger, less trouble. Less like he had the weight of the world on his shoulders, unburdened of his guilt and more like a man free to enjoy his life. Neither of them had been free to do so in the past, of course, and they probably still weren't in the eyes of the gods, but they’d both refused destiny and bent the rules so many times before, and Noctis would continue to do so if it meant Ardyn got to laugh like that.  
  
It was a good look on him, and Noctis felt that stupid feeling again, the slight stuttering in his chest, the way he couldn’t stop his eyes from lingering.  
  
God damn it.  
  
  
~&~  
  
  
Ardyn wouldn’t stop watching him. Or so it seemed, anyway.  
  
They stood on the balcony after dinner, staring out at the sea of city lights, the soft sounds of jazz music drifting out to them from the open balcony door. Not too loud to be a disturbance to anyone else, but enough for the two of them to hear melancholic voices singing to soft, slow beats.  
  
Noctis sighed. He’d never get tired of seeing Insomnia intact and whole and peaceful again, but it always felt so fragile, he always felt a twinge of anxiety. What if they couldn’t save it this time? What if they could never save it? What if things ended up so much worse than before? So many things could go wrong, so many things _had_ gone wrong, and he could never truly know how things would end up.  
  
“You’re doing that thing again,” Ardyn murmured from beside him, sipping at his wine.  
  
Noctis huffed. “What thing?”  
  
“Thinking too much.” A finger hovered near Noctis’s temple, twirling around in a circle. “I can practically see the cogs turning.”  
  
Noctis hummed. “I really am sorry for getting us sent back again.”  
  
“Accidents happen,” Ardyn said nonchalantly. “It was most likely inevitable anyway. And I don’t mind trying again.” He was looking at Noctis again, he could see him in the corners of his eyes, and Noctis swallowed, trying to keep a neutral face. “I don’t mind being given a little extra time,” Ardyn said.  
  
Noctis nodded. He finished off his wine and set the glass down on the floor. “Just gotta keep moving forward,” he sighed. He looked at Ardyn, found his gaze still on him.  
  
Ardyn stared in silence for a moment. He downed the rest of his wine and set his own glass on the balcony floor. “Yes,” he said. “We keep moving forward.” He turned to the cityscape again, a small smile on his lips. “And, one day, we may even find the right way to do things. To achieve our perfect ending. Could you imagine?”  
  
“And what’s your perfect ending?” Noctis grinned, unable to help but tease. It was easy, when they got like this. When it was just the two of them, when all acts and pretences could be dropped, when they were reminiscing about the years gone by and all the old foolish ways, and the new hopeful ones.  
  
Ardyn returned the smile, raising an eyebrow, eyes playful. “What is _yours_? No, wait, allow me to guess!” he held his finger up, wiggling it when Noctis opened his mouth to speak. “Endless peace and quiet so you can fish all day long, undisturbed. Required fishing time will be made law, in fact. Getting in the way will be declared treason.”  
  
“Well, _obviously_.” Noctis gave him an exaggerated eye roll, then let out a chuckle, glancing back out at the cityscape. “I don’t know yet. Guess I’m still searching for it, y’know?”  
  
“Hm.”  
  
“What about you?”  
  
Ardyn’s eyes turned thoughtful, the city lights reflected in them like stars. “I suppose my answer would be the same. Still searching. What _is_ a perfect ending, after all? I’m afraid I haven’t the slightest idea.”  
  
Noctis chuckled again, feeling a little self-conscious as he said, “Guess we’ll find that out together, then.”  
  
Ardyn looked at him, and his eyes seemed to do that thing again where they lingered, where they seemed to pierce through him, as if searching for something. Noctis stared back, his words suddenly stuck in his throat. He hated how young and foolish he could feel under that gaze, like a teenager with a silly little crush, and it was frustrating, _so frustrating_ , how this man had such an effect on him.  
  
“Thank you for tonight,” Ardyn said softly, his voice hushed and quiet and just for them. And genuine. He had shed his smile and his joviality, the way he did only every now and then and only when it was just the two of them, instead now regarding Noctis carefully and kindly. Perhaps like the man he used to be, so many years ago.  
  
“I mean it,” he continued. “It was a surprise, but a pleasant one. I had a wonderful time. So thank you.”  
  
Noctis swallowed. Oh, what the hell.  
  
He moved before he could think his actions through, throwing caution to the wind. He took a step closer, leaning in, closing his eyes as he pressed his lips to Ardyn’s. Softly, gently, barely even a touch at all, but the only thing he could feel. He lingered just a second or two, then pulled back, his heart hammering in his chest, barely able to open his eyes to look at Ardyn.  
  
Ardyn, who stared down at him with wide eyes and parted lips, silent for a long, unbearable moment before he let out a soft, “Uh.”  
  
Wow, damn. He’d rendered _Ardyn_ speechless. Noctis swallowed back a laugh and stared up at him, still standing close, his heart still pounding against his ribcage. “You’re welcome,” he murmured. “Happy birthday.”  
  
Ardyn’s mouth curled upwards, amused and disbelieving, and his eyes crinkled at the sides. “Oh, Noct,” he said, still quietly, his voice warm and soft and rolling through Noctis like honey. “You really never cease to surprise me.”  
  
Then his hands were on Noctis, large and warm and gentle, one cupping his jaw, one on the small of his back, pulling him in, pulling him closer, and his lips were on Noctis’s again, firmer this time, opening Noctis up to him, and, _wow_ , yeah, Ardyn could kiss. He kissed the same way he fought; fiercely and determinedly, passionately. Noctis hummed into his mouth, clenching his hands in Ardyn’s coat and pulling him as close as he could get, his head light and little shivers running down his spine in tiny shocks as Ardyn’s lips moved against his.  
  
It was over too soon, far too soon. Ardyn pressed his forehead to Noctis’s, his thumb traced Noctis's jawline. “You drive me mad sometimes,” he murmured. “Did you know that?”  
  
Noctis snorted. “Nice. Is this the part where you get disgustingly sappy with me?”  
  
Ardyn chuckled. “You are not the one to be accusing anyone of being sappy.”  
  
“Shut up.” Noctis thumped him, laughing despite himself, feeling giddy with relief, and then—  
  
And then Ardyn was kissing him again, holding him close, and Noctis held him just as closely, letting the world drift away as he took in Ardyn’s warmth and solid presence and he felt the steady heartbeat beneath his palm.  
  
Maybe this hadn’t been such a big mistake after all.  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Title comes from [this song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=h7j8wa9sWOE).
> 
> Thanks for reading! <333
> 
> You can find me [here](https://ivorydice.tumblr.com/) at tumblr.


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